Denial
by Zebrastreifen
Summary: How can you help someone deal with something if they deny it ever happened? SEQUEL TO "DISGUST" - *Rated M for references to non-consensual sex*
1. Chapter 1

_**So, there it is: The follow-up story to "Disgust"  
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_**Enjoy! (and review!)**_

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><p>When Aaron Hotchner entered his office, he wasn`t surprised to find the small lamp on the answering machine of his work phone blinking. After what had happened to Emily this weekend, he had been pretty sure she would take a few days off to sort things out. Hotch sighed.<p>

He had walked her to the door of her apartment because he had wanted to make sure she got home safely and - to be honest - because he had hoped she`d invite him in. However, Emily had just quickly sneeked inside, murmurring what he interpreted as "thank you". Hotch had been standing in front of her apartment for quite some time, trying to decide whether he should ring the doorbell or call her and - well, just be there for her. After a while, his phone had buzzed, indicating he had received a text message. It read: "Please leave, Aaron. I'm fine"

He'd called her immediately after receiving her text, knowing she was not fine at all. To his surprise, she had actually accepted his call, but just to whisper two words before she ended the call again: "I`m sorry..." Her voice was so shaky he knew - just knew - she was crying. He'd called her back a few times, trying to find out what she was apologizing for, but his calls had gotten straight to voice mail. He`d never left a message, not knowing what to say. He wanted her to know that he was there for her, that she didn`t have to go through this all by herself. He had wanted her to know that what had happened was not her fault, that there was no reason to blame, to hate herself. But instead of calling her again and again, Hotch had decided to give her some time. So after a while, he had actually left, not wanting to pressure her, figuring - hoping!- that she'd contact him if she needed him.

As far as he could tell, Emily would take a few days, maybe even a week off before even considering returning to work, facing everybody - especially him. They were profilers - she knew they would notice even the slightest changes in her behavior and draw their own conclusions, so she would want to make sure it wasn`t completely obvious that she had spent the past nights crying herself to sleep. Of course they were also her friends, but she was still Emily Prentiss - and Emily Prentiss was too proud to have anyone doubt that she was not invincible after all...

Hotch sighed again and pressed the voicemail button on the phone on his desk. "You have - one - new message. Message one: today, 3:46 am". Beep. "Hotch?" He was surprised to hear JJ`s voice instead of Emily`s. "It`s JJ, as you can probably still hear. I can`t come to work tomorrow - well, today. Whatever. Henry has been sick all weekend, and now Will and I are, too. I`m pretty sure you don`t want to hear the details... I`m sorry - I`ll be back as soon as I can!" The familiar beep resonated though the office, indicating the end of the voicemail. The shrill, automated voice announced: "You have - zero - new messages".

That was when Hotch started being seriously worried about Emily - because apart from being proud, she was also reliable: No matter what - if Emily was not going to show up for work (which had only happened once or twice in the past years), she`d give him a call. Unless...


	2. Chapter 2

Running out of his office, Hotch bumped into Morgan. "Whoa. Morning, boss... You okay?" "Where's Emily?" "What?" "Emily. Have you seen her?" Hotch urged, unable to hide the worry in his voice. Morgan gave him a confused look. "She's at the vending machines, I guess. Said she needed something to drink." "She's here?" "Yeah! Why wouldn't she? What's wrong, Hotch?" Ignoring Morgan's question, Hotch ran towards the vending machines. There she was.

"Morning!" Emily greeted. "What?" The brunette frowned. "Good morning, Hotch." She repeated happily. Happily! "What are you doing here, Emily?" Another frown. "I work here, remember?" A young agent from a different unit approached. Standing in front of one of the vending machines, he looked back and forth between Hershey's and Snickers, pretending he couldn't decide what to buy. Hotch rolled his eyes - it was obvious the guy was just eavesdropping. "Can... can I have a word with you, Emily?" "Uh, sure?" The other agent was now openly staring at them, no longer even pretending to be interested in a snack. Hotch shot him an annoyed glance and guided Emily towards his office.

Being polite, he gestured towards a chair offering her to sit down. Being Emily, she refused. Hotch sighed and closed the door. "What are you doing?" "What are _you_ doing, Emily?" She gulped. "What do you mean?" "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here yet, Emily. Take some time off. It's okay!" "Why?" _WHY_? How could she even ask that? "Because of what happened to you this weekend?" Hotch was so upset his statement sounded like a suggestion.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

WHAT? She couldn't be serious! She had been completely broken less than 24 hours ago! How could she even pretend not to remember? "Emily! You were raped!" She gulped. The following "No, I wasn't!" was barely audible but still gave her away. If he'd be talking nonsense, she wouldn't have whispered. She would've stared at him in confusion, would've dramatically shouted "_WHAT?_", would've maybe even called him insane. She would've sounded confused, maybe upset, but not hurt. Not scared. Hotch opened his mouth and then closed it again, not knowing what to say. How could she just stand here, trying to pretend nothing had ever happened?

"Emily" He started. "Please don't do this." "I don't know wha..." She tried again weakly, but Hotch interrupted her. "Stop it! You know exactly what I'm talking about! I'm talking about picking you up at this disgusting motel on a Sunday morning. I'm talking about driving you to the hospital and and spending four hours in the car, waiting for you to come back. I'm talking about you sitting on the backseat, begging me not to look at you because you didn't want me to see you crying, breaking down. I'm talking about you slamming the door in my face after I'd dropped you off at your place, because you were so ashamed that you couldn't even look at me!" Hotch stopped and took a deep breath, trying to control his voice.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Emily!" He repeated, glaring at her with a piercing look. Emily gulped, and for a brief moment, Hotch was sure she was going to burst into tears, but she didn't. "Maybe. But you can't prove it." Emily whispered, unable to even look at him. "Officially, nothing of what you just said ever happened."


	3. Chapter 3

_Nothing of what you just said ever happened._ What was this supposed to mean? He had dropped her off at the hospital himself! He had spent hours in his car waiting for her. She'd been wearing scrubs when she'd come back, for god's sake! It was real. He knew it was real. Why was she denying it? Suddenly, a dark realization hit him. _Officially_. She had said that nothing had _officially_ happened to her. Could this mean...?

"Emily... Please tell me you did get examined!"  
>"There is no rape-kit labeled <em>Emily Prentiss<em> in this hospital." She answered truthfully. "You can't prove anything. You don't have any legal basis for making me stay at home or see a shrink. None whatsoever. I'm here and I'm going to work cases. I'm fine."  
>"You're not."<br>"Then prove it!"

Silence.

"I still have the text you sent me!" Hotch stated, sounding unusually desperate.  
>"They don't prove anything. You know that." Both of them knew that this was not completely true: Yes, a text message consisting of "Please leave, Aaron. I'm fine" didn't prove anything in a legal sense. But if Hotch actually told their superiors, they'd have to go into the matter. And this would leave Emily with only two choices: Admit that Hotch was telling the truth or undergo another examination that would eventually reveal that she had lied, but neither of that was not going to happen.<p>

What this whole situation boiled down to was that Hotch would never break his promise of not telling anybody. He'd never use anything of what had happened the previous day against her, knowing that if he talked to his superiors without Emily's consent, she'd never forgive him - he'd lose her trust forever. And Hotch knew that she trusted him – at least to some point – because otherwise she would've never called him. Would've never allowed him to see her cry. She had to know she could trust him! Whatever it was they had: It meant something. Something Hotch would never dare to destroy.

He sighed heavily. "You're right. It doesn't prove anything."  
>Emily gave a condescending nod and one second later, she was gone.<p>

_Six hours later, Hotch watched a woman who'd just been raped board an FBI jet to hunt down a serial rapist slash killer in the woods of North Carolina. _


End file.
